


what it means to be human

by Still_Sammy (orphan_account)



Series: Sam Writes Things [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Poetry, and this came outta it, brief mention of something that could be seen as sex, i write sometimes, idk dude i just like, ig?????, keep thinking thunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25737334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Still_Sammy
Summary: with something as complex as a human, as infinite as a mind, how can it end at something as simple as a body, a corpse, a solid?
Series: Sam Writes Things [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866982
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	what it means to be human

lately i have been thinking hard and long about what it means to be human. to share a title with the people around me and be confidant in that. surely our form can not be the end of it- with something as complex as a human, as infinite as a mind, how can it end at something as simple as a body, a corpse, a solid? maybe to be human is just that- maybe it is to have a mind as remarkable as the thought of life itself and to think things that are as complex as the laws of the universe, yet to have our existence ceased because of something as inexplicable as death. to draw designs in the sand so intricate and unique and smile as the waves wash it away. maybe we are but leaves on a tree, colorful and changing, destined to be blown away by the wind.

they tell me to be human is to love, is to believe, is to question. and maybe that is. to be human is to have a creativity that goes beyond the laws of man and a sense of kindness that goes against the wits of woman. it is to have a heart as soft as berries and a soul as tough as wood. the juices of my soul run down my chin and leave a sticky trail that will quickly solidify into something red-hot and only meant to be described as determination. maybe i am human in my questioning, in my need for a definition i am sure to never be satisfied by. because what is more human than to see a puzzle and create your own pieces? to see a question and bubble in your own answer? we see the line and pull out an eraser- a wall is presented on a path we're told we cannot take but we come bearing hammers. it is something beautiful and something i am sure to have taken for granted much too often.

we build ourselves a home, a life, a future, and we cannot bare to live it alone. maybe that is what makes us human- the grasping and crippling urge to be with those of our kind, to have others like us share the ground we walk on and to have it called not 'mine' but 'ours'. we are social and we are desperate, with grabbing hands and the overwhelming need to cast an exploration on each other's bodies in ways that can only be described as intimate.

it's the little things, we say, and it truly is. it is the freckles on her nose and the way he makes his coffee and their heart as it beats in tandem with the breathing of the earth. we are the little things that grew into something that will never shrink. we were the ignorant that chose to walk the line of kindness and naivety. the children that grew but never forgot, the animals who evolved but never let go, the souls who yearned for more but brought some of it along on the journey. we see the innocence of those who have yet to walk along the path we choose and we say, "cherish that.". the hands of those who struggle to toddle reach for our own and we marvel at the difference, slowing our pace and helping them along. 

maybe that, truly, is what it means to be human. to have innocence wash away and watch as the tide brings in something new and explosive in it's potential. to handle something with care and to gently set it down, watching as it walks the tightrope of happiness and knowledge. to offer advice to those who will probably not listen, for some things are better learned than taught. we are human in our knowledge and we are human in our struggles. 

i have found that to be human is a million different things and a thousand different moments. humanity is a label we have been assigned and we search for our own definitions. i watch the people around me and i wonder what conclusion they have come to- if they, like me, have put more thought into this than they should. we are flesh and we are thought and we are feeling. we are a million concepts and a thousand seeds and the world continues to bloom beneath our feet in colors that stain the back of our eyelids. this garden of definition is not a responsibility we take lightly, nurturing the buds beneath fingers that are calloused and delicate. if we are lucky, they will grow into something more infinite than the minds we currently hold. maybe that, too, is what it is to be human. to grow and plant seeds in the minds for the generations to come, the ones we will not be alive to follow. i am not sure, but maybe they will be. that is all that matters.


End file.
